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Character Name: Evalia Catling
Official Artwork: Official Artwork
Contest Entry:

She could feel it. It was finally here. That glorious time of year when the husk of the old year melts away, the hard soil yielding to soft green shoots of green growing things. Almost as if she herself were one of those shoots herself, she would wake before even the first light of dawn, rolling out of bed with a quite exuberance that would make non-morning people cringe. With a focus that was seen no were else in her life, she slipped into her cloths. A simple white cotton sun-dress that had seen better days. Many better days. In fact it had patches all across it as if in testament to its years of service. patch upon patch of pastel colors across threadbare white cotton.

It was quite obvious the little sundress was a Frankenstein creation, a conglomeration of whatever fabrics she has, stitched with whatever colored thread she had laying about, though with no less of a loving hand for it. Grinning as she ran her fingers along the hem of the skirt, before letting it settle back to place, falling to just above her knees. It would need repair again, but that was part of the fun. When she first got this dress, years ago, it had fallen well past her knees. And lucky ( Or unlucky for her ) the only change she had gone through physically sense then was to grow ridiculously taller. Now she fell into that tall and willowy category... but much taller and she would have to start wearing... heaven forbid.... shorts .

With a repressed shudder she started to dig through her closet, organized to within an inch of its closet life, row upon row of shoes. Glorious shoes. Sandals, heels, pumps. A shrine to female footwear, in all its girly goodness. And tucked into a corner, were the most... well, to be honest they were hideous. A pair of rubber gardening galoshes. At some point in time they probably had a cheerful print on them... if she thought long and hard she would have flashes of memory, and could almost make it out... but now they were a blurred wash of color, scratches, and gouges from years of mucking in the dirt. Just the way she loved them. Wiggling her toes in her boots she grinned to herself, grabbing up a length of ribbon to tie her wealth of hair back from her face, she grabbed her keys, and took off into the brisk morning, the sun itself still trying to wake up.

She climbed into the truck, foregoing her little vespa. She had everything she needed already loaded into the truck anyway. Turning the engine over with a rumble, she pulled into the street, the only traffic yet on the road more likely returning from a night out then rising for the day. She drove away from the city, to the outskirts of the suburbs, turning down a road with well tended grass and shrubs lining it. The road wove through gently winding curves lined with great shade granting trees, somber and looming in the pre-dawn light. Seeing the tree that marked her place, she pulled to the side of the lane and parked, climbing out and gathering the two items from the back, one a wicker basket, the other a large dufflebag with a tray of flowering shoots balanced precariously ontop.

A march up a soft grassy hill.. She knew the way by heart. She could make it in her sleep, she had done this every year sense her childhood. The very first time she had made this trip she had been wearing these same boots, only then they had been so big the rubber sides had nearly made it up to her knees, her tiny feet unable to find purchase inside and making her trip all over herself.

She settled her load down onto the grass, surveying the plants from the last year with a critical eye, determining what could be saved, what was lost to the ravages of winter. With a skillfull hand she pruned and trimmed, tied limbs to lattice with thing string when needed, and when finally, when the sun was finally making its way into the sky, she planted the little bundles of green if the freshly tilled earth below. Wiping her face with the back of her hand, careless of the smudge of dirt and grime of streaked across her face, she flopped down to the ground, her back to a large slab of stone and pulled the wicker basket closer to her.

The sun peeked over the first of the trees, sending streaks of golden light across the grass. Everyone thought she loved spring so much... And in truth it made sense. She loved gardening, she loved the animals that came with it, the freedom of sandal weather. But the truth was, she hated spring, and every year that it came brought new heart break. Every year was a little bit better, but she didn't think there would ever be a year that she welcomed spring with a whole heart. The light crawled closer, until a finger of golden rays curled across the tip of one of her boots, her legs sprawled ungracefully before her. She opened the basket and pulled out a container of berries, a little wedge of cheese, and bottle of water that had been partially frozen overnight, making it deliciously icy now.

No... she didn't like spring at all. She dreaded it. ever sense she was a little girl. She sat in the same place she did every year on the anniversary, ever sense she was a little girl tripping over boots that weren't hers, and many sizes to big. She ate breakfast with her mother, as if talking to a slab of granite were the most natural thing in the world, her long iridescent hair obscuring the words " R.I.P. Maggie Catling, Beloved Wife and Mother ".

This time she told her mother a magical story like she used to when she was a child, a story of magical lanterns, talking cats, and superheros and villains from other worlds who battled for the planet.

Character Name: Anemone Gray
Official Artwork: Official Artwork
Contest Entry: Boredom. Boredom was the best word to sum up how Anemone felt right now. It was only ten in the morning when Anemone finally couldn't stand it anymore. She got up from her somewhat idle location on Ellie's bed and began pacing back and forth between the space from the door and window. ********* wasn't in the hall, and ********* couldn't be seen from the window. Where was *********? She missed ********* so much that the walls of Ellie's room finally couldn't contain Anemone any longer.

Down the hall and leaping down the stairs like a child on Christmas morning, Anemone's high-waisted floral pattern ruffled skirt gave her legs plenty of room to move but when it came to stopping at the bottom her silky tights caused her to slide. It didn't cause her too much grief but a meek squeak could be heard as her body moved involuntarily further. It was but a moment after that there was a bounce to her step as she began digging around in the closest near the door.

Not unusually distracted by ********* absence, Anemone hadn't bothered to do her hair this morning so her long wavy locks dragged back and forth across the floor as she hunched over looking for shoes. She didn't recognize most of the shoes in the closet and to be honest she had no idea where her shoes were so it was no surprise that she became bored with her search before finally she gave up entirely. Who needed shoes?! Anemone clearly didn't because she jumped up and left the house without any.

Under the clear mid-morning light, it was easy to see the detail of flowers in the knitted lace in her shirt as she wandered around without direction. She didn't know where ********* was but she knew where ********* wasn't so she left Ellie's house without a care. She was guided by the cool breeze, walking with the sun to her back. In any sense of the phrase, it was a perfect spring day... or it would be if she could just find *********! She would find her, she definitely would, and then finally she could sit back and relax.

She might have continued stomping down the sidewalk but in her condition the pavement below her feet started to become a nuisance. Step after step she felt rocks, and every other step she felt other miscellaneous objects. Neither were particularly welcome so when she caught sight of the familiar park she found that the bright green May grass begun to call to her like an oasis in the desert.

She knew this park. It didn't look the same now because the snow was gone but with the warm welcome of spring she could still see the memory of that Valentine's Day morning. She was fond of it in the winter but now with the bright colours of spring popped up in the flower beds and the cold air was all but gone, Anemone found herself at peace for some reason. She didn't quite understand why this new feeling arose but her feet slid happily across the plush spring grass, running her fingertips over the slides and swinging around the swing set until she found her way to the flower beds.

Silk stocking covered feet carefully danced around the flower beds as the birds in the trees above celebrated the season until finally she found a striking growth of peonies. She didn't know what these flowers were called anymore but they were pretty and she found herself reaching out to touch them. She hesitated, feeling at a loss for a second. It was there, with her hand held out, that a smile fell across the previously forlorn face.

It was such a simple notion but for some reason, the flower beds here brought a joy to her different from any ********* ever had. Each one sparked a lightly different feeling from excitement to even sorrow when she found a few had been picked and discarded. She felt bad for the flowers, and an curious anger that she could not explain. She cared for them but she did not understand why. She wouldn't let the flower simply die there, reaching down to pick up the discarded flowers. There, like a child, Anemone tucked each one into her hair, and finally in that moment her thoughts weren't entirely filled with simply finding *********. It was small but for a moment a small piece of what used to be Theodora Argyros shone through the mask of Anemone Gray.